


Take Me Home

by climbingvines



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (he has those too lmao), (this tag is for woosan), Alcohol, Anal Sex, Collars, Hongjoong Has Tattoos, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Mild Breathplay, Nipple Piercings, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Pining, Semi-Public Sex, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/climbingvines/pseuds/climbingvines
Summary: Somebody, take me homeI don't wanna be alone anymoreThat place of my dreamsSomebody, take me there...
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 13
Kudos: 216





	Take Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Loosely based on the track 'Take Me Home' off of the 'Zero: Fever Part 2' album. I decided to give Hongjoong his Wave era red hair here for the sake of an easy nickname, and also because 🥵. This fic has Seongjoong, Woosan, Yungi, and also Jongsang but only if you squint. As always, let me know if you think I missed a tag! Otherwise, enjoy!! 
> 
> \- Vinnie

Seonghwa wasn’t much for the club scene. When he had been young he loved to dance. He’d even been the captain of his school’s dance club, once upon a time. These days, he felt like that part of his life was so far in his past he couldn’t even see it anymore. 

These days he was average. An average man with an average salary and an average job with an average apartment and a slightly above average face. Hey, he still had his vanity at least. 

Even his best friend was average. Jeong Yunho looked like the leading man in every drama airing in prime time slots. He was friendly, hard working, light hearted, and made everyone around him feel at ease. When he thought about it that way, Seonghwa supposed that Yunho wasn’t exactly average after all. He was just normal. Normal and average didn’t always have to mean the same thing. 

And like every other normal twenty-two year old in the city, Yunho liked to go out to clubs; and because Seonghwa was his best friend that meant Seonghwa got dragged along, too. 

(There wasn’t much dragging. Anyone with a soul would find it hard to say no to Yunho’s easy grin and golden retriever eyes. Anyone with a heart would go out of their way to make him smile because damn did the guy have the most gorgeous smile.)

Usually Seonghwa treated the clubs like... really noisy bars. He tagged along with Yunho, ordered a few drinks, stuck around until Yunho tired himself out and then they went home. It was sort of like taking a puppy to a dog park for some off leash time. You sat on a bench and played on your phone while keeping one eye on your overly enthusiastic pup. Made sure they didn’t bite anyone. When they started panting you made them drink some water. When their eyelids started drooping you took them home. Easy.

Seonghwa was halfway through his second white russian, the sweet flavor helped mask the sting of alcohol he’d never really gotten used to even during his college days. The bartender, a pleasant young man who didn’t even look like he was old enough to drink himself, had taken to replacing the cream in Seonghwa’s drink with chocolate milk. Seonghwa pretended like he didn’t notice, and the bartender, Jongho, pretended like he hadn’t seen Seonghwa grimacing everytime he took a sip before he made the switch.

He checked the time on his phone and sighed. It was barely ten and Yunho probably would be ready to leave for hours, but Seonghwa’s heart just wasn’t in it tonight. He was tired, he had reports he needed to read before work on Monday, and for some reason the barstools just weren’t feeling as comfortable tonight. No matter which way he shifted his ass was determined to go numb. 

It was right about then that he turned and gave the club a cursory once over, hoping to find Yunho looking just as bored as he felt. He didn’t see Yunho, but who he did see was probably about a million times better.

At one of the tables across the writing sea of dancing bodies sat the most gorgeous man Seonghwa had seen in years. 

The table was high, ringed by tall chairs and the toes of the man’s booted feet barely skimmed the footrest. He was dressed rather casually for a club in high waisted light wash jeans with an oversized cardigan tucked into the front. The cardigan was white with a confusing pattern of leopard spots and palm trees splashed over it in a red as bright as fresh spilled blood. 

Even the man’s hair was red. Truly, truly red. Not orange or copper or auburn, but red. The back was a bit long, curling at the nape of his neck, while his fringe was plastered to his forehead with a thin layer of sweat, courtesy of the sweltering heat inside the club.

It was round that time that Yunho dropped onto the stool next to him and slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling his attention away from the high table. Yunho chatted with the bartender, ordered himself a black and tan and by the time Seonghwa remembered he’d been in the process of falling into love at first sight, he looked up and the man was gone. The table was filled with people Seonghwa didn’t recognize and the dance floor was too full for Seonghwa to track him down short of standing up and looking around like a total loser. 

When Seonghwa went home that night he shared a cab with Yunho. Seonghwa listened to him go on and on about the boy he’d met. Tall, handsome, loud, surprisingly well read with a wickedly handsome smile and sharp features. Mingi, Yunho had said his name was. In one short car ride, Seonghwa had learned more about this man he hadn’t even had a chance to meet in person than he had learned about his ‘I saw him across the room’ redhead, or probably ever would. 

He also learned that this Mingi was playing hard to get and had refused to give Yunho his number. Instead, he’d asked him to meet him at the club again the following night and Yunho insisted that he wouldn’t have the courage to go unless Seonghwa went with him. 

Which was how Seonghwa found himself sitting at the bar two nights in a row, Jongho slipping his sympathetic dirty white russians he hadn’t ordered just yet as he tried to finish reading at least one report so he wouldn’t have to read three on a Sunday. The kicker was Yunho wasn’t even nearby. He was already off and flirting. At least Seonghwa had gotten to meet Mingi this time. He was everything Yunho had said he was, but Seonghwa found that the thing he liked about him best was his sharp features. It made him look shrewd and calculating, maybe a bit cold; but all of that was thrown out the window when he smiled, and especially when he laughed. Seonghwa had a good feeling about him and he hoped he’d give Yunho a real chance sometime soon. 

In the meantime, Seonghwa gestured for Jongho to switch him to water because words like venous thromboembolism were starting to swim when he tried to focus on the pdf open on his phone screen in front of him. A combination of ‘tired’ and ‘too much vodka’. Two nights out in a row was  _ really _ pushing it for him. 

The fact that it was the second time he’d thought to himself ‘two nights in a row’ in the last fifteen minutes was really starting to make him feel old and out of touch, despite being only twenty-three.

Seonghwa locked his phone, downed the glass of water, and got up to stretch his legs. He’d regret it later when he had to stand awkwardly near the bar and wait for a seat to become available again, but for now his knees and thighs were burning with the need to no longer be stationary. 

Seonghwa took a lap around the dance floor, sticking to the narrow lip between the raised tables, the dj booth, and the bar. He was half-way around and already regretting getting so close to the heat and the stench of a thousand different body sprays, deodorants, and perfumes mixing together. 

It was the flash of red that caught Seonghwa’s attention. He’d almost walked right past them without seeing him. He was tucked in between two people near the wall and seemed content to stay there for the moment, but it was definitely the same guy from the night before. 

“Seonghwa-hyung!” 

Seonghwa startled, turning with wide eyes in search of the person who called his name. Yunho waved an arm over his head just a few tables past where the man and his friends were sitting. Seonghwa ducked his head and hurried over, sliding into a vacant chair and reaching out to steal a sip from Yunho’s beer just to have something to do with his hands.

“Finally decide to leave Jongho alone?” Yunho teased. 

“You know,” one of the boys at the table drawled, “If he’s your type I can get you his number.”

“Yeosang-ah, are you playing matchmaker?” Mingi laughed, “You haven’t even properly met Seonghwa-ssi yet.” He turned to Seonghwa and pointed at his friend, shouting over the music to be clearly heard, “Seonghwa-ssi, this is Kang Yeosang. He works with me at my day job.”

Seonghwa nodded and pointed at himself, then jerked a thumb in Yunho’s direction.

“Park Seonghwa! I came with this one.”

“So, Park Seonghwa-ssi.” Yeosang said, his tone conversational as he fished the cherry out of his old fashioned. “Yunho-ssi said you were a salesman. So sell us your friend here. He seems awfully set on getting Mingi-yah’s number but I’m just not convinced.” He popped the cherry into his mouth and looked up to meet Seonghwa’s eyes with a smirk. “Convince me?”

So Seonghwa finally got to play the part of Wingman. He told all the best stories he could think of from their college days. They had been roommates after all. He talked about the summer they spent traveling abroad together in Japan. He talked about how even though they’d gone into different fields, they still made time for each other and hadn’t drifted apart in the slightest. He did his best to paint a picture of friendly, stable, dependable Yunho without making him sound too wild or too boring. It was pretty easy, all things considered, because, well, Yunho was normal after all. 

Way more normal than Seonghwa who couldn’t seem to stop himself from looking over at a different table as he talked. 

Red, as Seonghwa had taken to calling him in his head, was still sitting just a few tables away, tucked away between his friends. He was just as exquisite as when Seonghwa saw him the night before. Being out two nights in a row didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, he was still just as bright eyed and animated as he chatted with his friends

Everything about him was refined, angular features. A vision with eyes rimmed in kohl and a wide, white smile when he laughed at something someone said, leaning into his laughter with his entire body. His frame was slender, and there was a thick black choker secured around his graceful throat, drawing the eye down to the sharp lines of his collar bones exposed by the wide neck of the sleeveless shirt he wore underneath a denim jacket covered in rhinestones and metal studs and splashed of neon colored paints that almost seemed to pulse in the chaotic lighting of the club.

The more Seonghwa watched him the more he knew Red was way out of his league. A guy like him, he probably had men and women alike coming on to him all the time. He probably wouldn't even give Seonghwa the time of day.

But he was beautiful, so Seonghwa watched.

Later in the night, when Seonghwa had successfully sold Yunho to Mingi judging by the way his hands lingered around Yunho’s waist as they made their way onto the dance floor, Seonghwa watched as Red’s table stood up to head for the dance floor, too. 

It wasn't until that very moment when Seonghwa realized the choker around Red's neck was attached to a chain. It was thick and chrome and Seonghwa was going to have to pay a visit to his ophthalmologist because there was no way he should have missed it, but there it was. A chain, which was now wrapped around the fist of an equally attractive man in a crop top of all things. Crop Top tugged on the chain, the gesture teasing and not at all possessive, but Seonghwa didn't miss the spark of lust in the Red's eyes or the shiver that ran down his spine as the leather bit into his neck.

They moved out onto the dance floor, worming their way right into the thick of it, but from Seonghwa's perch at the high table with the forever bored looking Kang Yeosang, he could still see them. It was kind of hard to miss them, Red stood out like a rose in a field full of daisies. Thankfully they stopped near to where Yunho and Mingi were dancing, so Seonghwa didn’t have to explain to Yeosang why he was staring so intently into the crowd all of a sudden.

There were three of them. Red, the man with the Crop Top, and a boy with dark hair curling around the line of a sharp jaw, just a bit too long to be socially acceptable but oh so fashionable. The dark headed boy appeared to be laughing, no, positively _cackling_ , but Seonghwa couldn’t hear a thing over the thumping bass that filled the club. 

The corners of the laughing boy's mouth turned up in a smug smirk when Red plastered himself to his front. The chain passed ownership from Crop Top to Giggles, wrapping around his fist and down his forearm, and suddenly nothing about the situation seemed very playful anymore. There was a marked difference between the chain in Crop Top's hand and the chain in Giggle's hand. It seemed like it should have been the other way around, but even with all the eye smiles and laugh lines he would probably have by the time he was forty, there was something devious about him.  _ Definitely _ something devious about the way he shoved his knee between Red’s thighs as they danced.

Suddenly Seonghwa didn't feel like watching them anymore.

Pretty or not, that was one trio he didn't fancy getting in the middle of. Definitely not something he wanted to be involved in.

Definitely.

Seonghwa had been watching him for weeks now.

He couldn't help it.

He had told himself over and over again that he wasn't interested, but it was like once he'd noticed Red he couldn't  _ stop _ noticing him. It never failed, night after night Seonghwa would have a few drinks and then he would instinctively search Red out in the crowd. It wasn't like he was hard to find or anything.

Every weekend, every Friday and Saturday night like clockwork, Seonghwa was at the club and so was Red. 

Seonghwa had thought about trying to convince Yunho to go to another club. Hell, he'd thought about not going out at all. It wasn't like this was even his scene. He always felt distinctly out of place amongst the glitter and leather and sweat.

Yunho, despite his  _ umchina _ image, always seemed to be right at home. And as it turned out, Mingi worked at the club as one of the DJs. He wasn't super popular, but he was decent. His spot usually ended just before nine o'clock on Friday and Saturday nights; right before the club pulled out the big guns. Yunho swore he had no idea he was hitting on the talent that first night. Ever since the two of them had started this will-they-won’t-they courtship, Yunho had taken to showing up just as Mingi’s set was ending and then pulling him out onto the dance floor, and for some reason he  _ still  _ seemed to think he needed Seonghwa to do that. Wing Man, Yunho insisted, but it wasn't like Seonghwa actually did much 'wing manning' anymore. 

All of the whys and hows aside, Seonghwa was there two nights in a row, week after week, and so was Red, and try as he might Seonghwa just couldn't stop looking at him.

Based on his observations, Seonghwa had come up with a lot of different theories about the other man. At first, Seonghwa had thought the giggly one might be Red’s boyfriend. The way Red moved against him, rolling his hips to whatever rhythm the DJ set, seemed to imply that their relationship was maybe a little bit more than platonic. 

But then again, the way Crop Top rested his hands on Red’s waist and glared at anyone who seemed like they might even be looking at him didn't help Seonghwa make any sense of the situation, either..

Perhaps the three of them were inseparable. A package deal.

At least, that's what Seonghwa theorized.

All the nights Seonghwa had watched from afar, he'd never seen Red accept an offer to dance from anyone but his friends. Until one night,  _ he _ showed up. 

Tall, god he was so tall. When Red looked up to meet his eyes he had to tilt his chin up to see his face clearly. He had a wide, easygoing going smile. He exuded friendliness in the same way that Yunho did but there was something that screamed raw sexuality about him. Maybe it was the way he looked Red up and down, one eyebrow cocked. His hair was a bright, artificial white that fell artfully over his forehead and did little to hide ears that were just a bit too big. Hell, even that was endearing. There were tattoos on his forearms and a piercing in his lip. His hands looked impossibly large as they settled on Red’s waist, easily spanning from hip to rib as he splayed his fingers. He was attractive in a way that screamed ‘I modeled part time in college’, but Seonghwa had watched Red reject men who were just as attractive, just as self-assured; so he waited for the moment Red rejected this guy, too.

Except he didn't.

The guy tugged Red against him and Crop Top watched for a moment, almost seemed to be appraising the situation. Then, Crop Top reached out and caught a dancing Giggles by the hip, and Seonghwa's eyebrows found a new home in his hair because if he'd thought the exact nature of the relationship between Giggles and Red was worth questioning, that notion was effectively quashed by the way the space between Crop Top and Giggles seemed to disappear in a matter of seconds.

He was actually so distracted by the way Giggles pressed in close to Crop Top and immediately started grinding on his thigh, so absorbed in the grip Crop Top had on the nape of Giggles’ neck, on the way his fingers took a firm hold on his chin, tilting his face up to meet his..

Seonghwa coughed, choking on his drink, face flushing as he hurriedly turned his eyes from the sight of Crop Top's tongue getting familiar with Giggles’ tonsils.

Familiar was probably a bad word choice, he seemed like he knew his way around already.

Red.

Red was still dancing with Tattoos.

Seonghwa probably shouldn't call him Tattoos seeing as Red himself had plenty of tattoos of his own. Tonight he was dressed in dark wash jeans that fit him like second skin and a sheer top. There had been a heavy leather jacket to complete the ensemble, but it had found its way to the coat check only a few hours after Red's group arrived.

Minus the leather, Seonghwa was now free to see the tattoos scrawled across Red's skin. Jet black lines curled up his sides, down his arms, and across the expanse of his shoulders; curving around from the nape of his neck. He followed the trailing swirls of ink down Red's side, eyes skimming the low slung waistband of his jeans.. idly wondered if the opaque fabric was hiding any other designs.

He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't dying to find out.

Lip Ring.

Lip Ring was a better name for Red's dance partner.

Lip Ring was whispering in Red's ear…

“Looks like Yukhei is moving fast tonight.” Yeosang said from the tall chair next to his, inclining his head toward the newly minted couple.

Seonghwa had given up on hanging out at the bar. It was nice to be able to wave Jongho over for a drink whenever he was running low, but the tradeoff was having people yell over his shoulder and in his ear all night. At the raised table where Yeosang held court, he had plenty of space and a great view of the dance floor. The waitress came by often, and Seonghwa was still puzzling out whether or not Yeosang played some sort of role at the club to command that level of respect and a table with a neat little  _ reserved _ card on it, or if the man was just loaded. 

Yeosang leaned back in his chair lazily, the dark curl of his hair paired with his ridiculously good looks made him look dangerous in the low light of the club. He had a pretty mouth, but a lot of the things that came out of it were sharp, just a bit too cutting. He wasn’t really Seonghwa’s type, but he found that he enjoyed spending time with him anyway. Another Yeosang perk was that the man seemed to know everyone. 

Like Red’s dance partner. Seonghwa knew that if he just asked, Yeosang probably knew who Red was, too. He could tell Seonghwa his name, maybe even introduce them. Yeosang’s eyes were just as sharp as his words. Seonghwa knew that Yeosang had seen him watching Red. Why else would he deliberately point out that Red was dancing with someone if not to gauge Seonghwa’s reaction?

Through the mass of bodies and the glare of the strobe lights he could just make out the shadow of Lip Ring's hands as they snaked under Red's top. His mouth made a home for itself on the side of Red's neck and Seonghwa stopped watching.

  
  
  


The longer Seonghwa watched the more he started to get a better understanding of what exactly was going on with Red and his two friends.

Crop Top and Giggles were obviously a couple or something.

He decided that for sure one evening when Red had picked himself out a new dance partner and Seonghwa had lost interest in watching him again. He didn't like seeing him with other guys.

Once Red and his new friend had started to get a bit too handsy, Seonghwa had decided to make his way to the restroom. He swung the door open and immediately thought he heard a low moan coming from the last stall in the line. His first thought was that someone had overdosed. He had terrible visions of someone slumped over on the dirty tile floor with a needle sticking out of their arm. Perhaps it was a side effect of working in pharmaceuticals that this particular scenario was the first thing that popped into his head. Concerned, he edged carefully down the line of stalls, debating on whether or not he should call out and ask if everything was okay. He stopped in his tracks when his angle shifted enough to see through the crack where the stall door met the frame.

Crop Top stood with his shoulders braced against the graffitied wall, stance wide and his fingers buried in Giggles’ luscious hair, destroying its artfully arranged messiness. Giggles didn't seem to mind that his hair was rapidly going from boyishly tussled to sex crazed judging by his position on his knees, the other man's cock between plush lips. A desperate whine left his throat as he stared up at Crop Top with adoring eyes. When one of Crop Top's hands left Giggles’ hair to trail gently across his jaw, murmuring low praise, Seonghwa figured he'd overstayed his welcome (not that he'd been invited to begin with) and he slipped out the the bathroom was quietly as he possibly could. 

So there he was. Three days later sitting at his desk at work, over thinking everything he'd ever seen from the trio.

Obviously Giggles and Crop Top were together. They both seemed to only pretend they were interested in Red until Red wasn't interested in them. Then they were all over each other. So what, they functioned like some sort of buffer? Crop Top  _ did _ seem to get immediately defensive whenever anyone approached them, but as soon as Red indicated he was okay with the attention he relaxed and let them be.

Red got an awful lot of attention, too. On more than one occasion, Seonghwa had observed Giggles shoving the typical overconfident asshole for not taking a hint.

It spoke to the possibility that in the past, Red had suffered a bad experience or two with guys not taking 'no' for an answer. The idea that Red had ever been uncomfortable or unhappy left a bad sort of taste in Seonghwa’s mouth, which maybe he should be more concerned about since, as he reminded himself for the twelfth time in an hour,  _ Seonghwa didn’t actually know him _ . 

Maybe in the long run it was just easier for Red to appear to be attached than to appear to be open to advances. So what would happen if Seonghwa approached him? Would Red be interested? Would Seonghwa get bounced by a man who seemed to own an astronomical amount of Crop Tops? 

Seonghwa thought about the guys he'd seen Red dance with, even leaving with a few times. The pierced, tattooed kind wearing too much leather and too much eyeliner. Seonghwa tried to picture himself that way, done up like an idol ready to go on stage at Inkigayo.

He snorted, appalled at his own line of thinking. This wasn't a drama. There wasn't going to be a ninety second musical montage of him shopping with Yunho, trying on different looks while his friend shook his head until he stepped out suddenly made over to Red's ideal type specifications and earned a thumbs up from the shopkeeper.

Seonghwa didn't want that, anyway. He didn’t want to earn Red’s attention by being anything but himself. 

It wasn't that Seonghwa didn't have his own charms. His deep voice and his naturally dark gaze, even if he did look a little bit like he was in pain when he smiled. He was tall and handsome and generally people loved it when he showed them attention. Seonghwa had never been turned down before when he truly set his mind to gaining someone's attention.

It's just that he didn't see himself in any of those guys Red picked.

Did he want to put himself out there like that and risk getting rejected? He felt invested in this thing with Red. This non-existent thing that consisted of him watching him from across crowded rooms and getting grumpy when other people got his attention.

Was there anything about him that gave him even a fighting chance with Red?

Seonghwa thought back to the first night he’d seen him and he realized that, yes, there was. That collar around his neck, that spark in his eye when Crop Top tugged on the chain. How many lovers had Seonghwa had in the past that had told him his voice was made for sin? How many had told him he could get them to do whatever he wanted, if only he used the right tone of voice? That. That seemed like Red’s thing.

Seonghwa worked in pharmaceutical sales. He sold cutting edge products to highly intelligent physicians every day. He knew how to be charismatic, he knew how to be convincing. He knew how to change his touch, become forceful, almost imposing if needed. He was an expert at reading people. If he could just apply that to this…

Seonghwa laughed at himself, then, because he was going to an awful lot of effort for one man.

One exceedingly pretty man that he hadn’t stopped thinking about for weeks…

In the end, Seonghwa decided he was being ridiculous, occupied mind or no, and resolved not to think about it any more.

His resolve not to think about lasted all the way until he got home from work. Once he let himself entertain the idea that he could do something about his little ‘crush’ on Red, he couldn’t manage to shake it loose. He made himself dinner, caught up on some emails, took a shower and read a chapter of a book before bed and the entire time he just kept  _ thinking  _ about it. 

He was still thinking about it when Yunho waltzed into his office and announced they were going out that evening.

“Mingi has the night off, so I’m going to meet him there a bit earlier than usual. You’re coming, right?”

He looked so hopeful that Seonghwa couldn’t say no.

The idea that, if he set his mind to it, he could gain Red’s attention was still bouncing around inside his skull when they arrived at the club. Yunho sat with him at the bar for a bit, ordered them a round of shots to ‘take the edge off’ his nerves before Mingi arrived. It was a theme night, 80s something or other. Everyone had teased hair and neon lipstick and gaudy jewelry. Mingi himself sent Yunho a photo in which he sported some kind of unitard-boa combo that reminded Seonghwa of Charlie’s Angels meets a Las Vegas drag show.

Yunho had looked up at Seonghwa with Big Eyes™ and practically whined,

“Hyung, I think I’m in love with him.”

Seonghwa let out a startled laugh, “Have you told  _ him _ that yet?”

“No!” Yunho lamented. Jongho placed a pity drink in front of him, his bartender senses responding to the siren call of Yunho’s misery. “I can’t even get him to agree that we’re dating.”

“He just liked to watch you squirm, hyung.” Jongho said conversationally. “Yeosang-hyung said he called you his boyfriend the other day when they were having lunch together.”

“He did?” Yunho asked. He gazed back down at the picture on his phone with a look full of such fondness that it made Seonghwa feel lonely just looking at him. 

He didn’t have to be lonely. He could stop coming to the club every weekend and leaving alone. He could forget about Red, accept the attention of the people who were brave enough to approach him when he actually loosened up and laughed with his friends. He could  _ easily  _ let someone take him home for a night, but somehow the idea that he could maybe, possibly, actually walk up to  _ Red _ and talk to him, dance with him, find out his real name even, was even more appealing. He was still thinking about it, imagining all the ways he could actually make it happen; running dozens of scenarios over and over again in his mind and cringing at all the terrible ways they could go wrong when Red himself happened to walk through the door.

One look at him and Seonghwa’s mouth went dry. He was wearing a vintage button-down, one of those crazy printed things. Black with an explosion of exaggerated color splashed across it like spilled ink; the sleeves cut out and most of the buttons undone. His not-shirt was paired with a pair of artfully torn cutoffs, the denim dark and frayed in places. The look was complemented with a pair of fishnet stockings held up around shapely thighs by the tantalizing strings of garters disappearing beneath denim and a pair of well worn combat boots. A collection of bracelets and rings, a sparkle of studs along each ear. His hair tousled and gelled. There was glitter high on his cheek bones, streaming down the elegant line of his neck. The whole outfit was a cliched caricature of 80s glam rock and more than a bit obnoxious. Seonghwa wasn’t surprised at all when its effect hit him straight in the dick.

That’s what kind of trash he’d become, after all.

Red was laughing, a brilliant, wide smile that he quickly covered with his hand. When the sound of his laugh actually reached his ears, Seonghwa realized that this was the closest he’d ever physically been to Red.

Seonghwa heart seized in his chest a bit when he realized that Red and his friends were walking towards him.

Not him, the bar. They stopped a little ways down from Seonghwa, Red leaning over the bar to chat with Jongho. The lights from the dance floor flashed, causing something to glisten down the backs of Red’s thighs. Seonghwa blinked when he realized it was a line of rhinestones, sewn into the material of the fishnets, dotting up his calves and the backs of his thighs to disappear into the cuffs of his shorts. Seonghwa’s eyes followed the path they created, lingered over Red’s narrow hip and the dainty tuck of his waist-

Suddenly, Crop Top was there. His hand fell to Red’s hip and he met Seonghwa’s gaze head on, a sneer pulling back his lips. He leaned down to whisper in Red’s ear and then Seonghwa really was dying because Red, elbows still leaned casually on the bartop, was looking at him. The corner of his mouth twisted up in a wry smile as he too met Seonghwa’s gaze. 

Sheer  _ panic  _ made Seonghwa's eyes widen and his heart lurched so hard in his chest he thought it might seriously stop there for a second. He remembered his desk musings, his self-assessment that he might not be Red’s type but that he had a feeling what Red liked, so instead of looking away like he so desperately wanted to, like he hadn’t just been caught staring at Red’s ass, Seonghwa picked up his drink and sipped it, using all of his hard won salesman skills to maintain a calm and detached sort of air as he held Red’s gaze.

Twin points of color bloomed high on Red’s cheekbones as the other man looked away. Jongho handed over two tall glasses of something and then they were leaving, passing Seonghwa by with drinks in hand in search of their usual table.

A blonde woman that Seonghwa actually recognized her as one of Mingi’s friends, waved them over. Siyeon, he recalled. He couldn’t convince himself he was imagining it when she nudged Red and pointed a jeweled finger in Seonghwa’s direction. Red glanced over at him and Seonghwa thought he saw the beginnings of a small smile before Red was biting his lip and leaning in to whisper in Siyeon’s ear.

Seonghwa stood up from the bar and made his way towards Yeosang’s table. He kept his eyes forwards and his shoulders relaxed as he passed by Red’s group. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Red look up, his mouth fall open like he was going to say something but Seonghwa passed them by. He slid into an empty chair and everyone welcomed him enthusiastically. 

“Hyung!” Mingi chirped, shoving one of the shots from the tray in the center of the table his way. “It’s my birthday. Drink!”

“It’s your birthday? Fun night for it.”

“Yeosangie really is the best.” Mingi crooned, reaching out to ruffle Yeosang’s hair. The man rolled his eyes, looking absolutely devastating in a vintage Christian Dior pantsuit of electric blue. “He organized this whole night just for me.”

Seonghwa blinked, looking around the table in confusion.

“You organized this?” He asked, when no one else seemed to find this strange.

“Well it is my club.” Yeosang shrugged, sipping his drink with an air of detachment that Seonghwa envied. 

“I thought you said he worked with you at your day job?” Seonghwa shot at Mingi.

“I do. I’m an editor-at-large over at  _ Haengsyo  _ magazine where our dear Song Mingi is a staff writer.”

Seoghwa had to stop his jaw from dropping.  _ Haengsyo  _ was one of the trendiest up and coming fashion and lifestyle magazines in the country. Even Seonghwa, uneducated in the world of fashion as he was, had heard of it. “And you somehow manage to own a nightclub on a journalist’s salary?”

“My mother has some money.” Yeosang waved a hand as if to shoo away the entire conversation. “This place used to belong to my father, and she got it in the divorce. I got it after graduation.”

The casual mention of a multi-million dollar piece of property changing hands made Seonghwa feel a bit queasy, but a lot of things about Yeosang suddenly made a lot more sense. 

“Did I seriously forget to tell you all this, hyung?” Yunho laughed. He had pulled Mingi into his lap and now had his chin hooked over his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist in an embrace that seemed entirely too wholesome for a nightclub on a Friday night. Everyone at the table laughed, save Yeosang who just smiled a slim, secret little smile. The burst of laughter drew the attention of the other nearby tables and Seonghwa saw Red twist around in his chair to take a peek. They met eyes again and Red gave him a tentative wave. Seonghwa waved back.

Yunho twisted around in his chair, balancing Mingi on his lap with a steadying hand on his hip.

“Who are you waving at, hyung?” He asked, curious, but Red had already turned back to his friends. This time, it was Seonghwa’s turn to hide behind his own secretive smile. 

By the time Red’s group finally filtered out onto the dance floor it was just Yeosang and Seonghwa left at Yeosang’s reserved table. Seonghwa threw back the rest of his drink and told himself,

Now or never.

Do or die.

He was probably gonna die judging by the way he couldn’t seem to make his legs work. 

The group sliced a path through the dancing masses, Siyeon jumping off by a dark head of hair Seonghwa knew to be Yunho. 

In a move that seemed rather deliberate, Red led the other two to a section of the dance floor almost directly across from where Seonghwa and Yeosang sat. His dancing also seemed to be a bit more enthusiastic than usual, if the eyeroll and the slight fond smile from Giggles was anything to go by. 

Seonghwa rose and Yeosang glanced up from his phone to smirk at him,

“Finally gonna go get him, tiger?” He drawled. Seonghwa flushed, but he nodded anyway. 

He gently shoved his way through the crowd before he could even really remember making the decision to move. When he reached them, Seonghwa stopped short of the trio, suddenly feeling incredibly out of place. Red looked even more unreal up close and Seonghwa, in his black on black ensemble that didn’t match the theme, his blazer abandoned in the coat check up front, couldn’t feel any more ridiculous. There was some potential here that maybe Seonghwa had read the situation entirely wrong, his lustful brain creating glances and smiles where there were none. The wave had been meant for someone else and Red hadn’t even seen him. 

He was seconds from backing away and escaping the club all together. He even took a step backwards in preparation to run, but before he could get too far Red broke away from his friends and walked right up to Seonghwa. He stood there, chest heaving, eyes searching Seonghwa’s face curiously. Crop Top stood behind him, arms crossed over his chest as he observed the situation.

“Are you gonna ask me to dance, or what?”

How was it that in all the different scenarios of walking up to Red and talking to him, Seonghwa had never considered that Red might talk to him first?

He was woefully unprepared for this. All of the visions in his head, all his grand ideas of sliding up to the trio and winning Red’s attention like the ambitious Yukhei of weeks past flew from his head and Seonghwa was left gaping at a glitter covered vision straight out of his dreams without a reasonable response within his grasp. Not a thing to say that wouldn’t leave him looking like an absolute moron.

Well if he couldn’t trust his tongue to speak, he could let his hands talk for him, right?

Seonghwa’s eyes gave Red a quick once over and he allowed himself a small nod before he stepped closer. His hands settled on Red’s hips and the smaller man stepped closer, his wrists sliding up to cross behind Seonghwa’s neck. He felt so small. Seonghwa knew just from looking at him that he would be taller than Red, but he was surprised by just how much. It wasn’t like Seonghwa was a tall guy, like Yunho or Mingi. Red was just very petite. 

Red tilted his head up, a small smile playing around the corners of his lips. The collar of his shirt fell open, exposing his throat and Seonghwa had to contain a groan because he was wearing the choker. He hadn’t seen it up close before, but it was definitely the same necklace, thick leather with a shiny silver circle where a chain could be attached. The black leather contrasted with Red’s soft, golden skin. Seonghwa found himself more than a bit mystified by the way Red’s adam’s apple strained against the tight bond. He could imagine it clearly, how beautifully Red would gasp if he were to hook a finger under the choker, pulling lightly, gently cutting off his air-

The thought brought him back to himself; brought back all Seonghwa’s carefully laid out plans. Red liked dark and dangerous. Seonghwa could do that, he could play that game. He tightened his grip on Red’s hips, turning him in his grasp quickly. Red’s hands fluttered, adjusting his hold on Seonghwa’s neck.

Seonghwa pulled him close, settling his ass into the cradle of his hips. The sharp inhale from Red stoked his confidence, pushed him to lean down and whisper into his ear.

“I’m sure you hear this all the time.. But you’re gorgeous.”

Red giggled in his arms, he couldn’t hear the sound, but he felt it thrumming up from his core.

“I do,” Red said back,  _ almost  _ yelling to be heard over the music. “but it’s always nice to hear.”

Giggles was watching them, from his own place in Crop Top’s arms Seonghwa could see him stealing glances. Crop Top leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear as he spoke. Giggles shot Seonghwa a reassuring smile before turning back to his lover.

Confidence, confidence, confidence.

“I.. don’t want this to sound weird… but I’ve been watching you..”

“I know.”

“...Well.” Seonghwa’s mind blanked. 

Red was giggling again and Seonghwa frowned. His plan to sweep him off his feet with his charms and his good looks was failing fast. At least he was dancing with him. Seonghwa had absolute confidence in his ability to move on the dance floor. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to actually do something about it for weeks..” Red said, turning his head to look up at Seonghwa, watching closely for his reaction.

Oh.

None of this was right, Seonghwa was supposed to sweep Red off his feet. He had always considered himself to be good with words, but his words seemed to be failing him now. So he fell back on a good old stand-by. He threw all his cards on the table and twisted Red back around in his arms again. Red looked up at him, curious.

Now or never.

Do or die.

Seonghwa kissed him. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Red’s. It was almost sweet, considering the situation, but he wasn’t trying to force himself on him. He wanted to give Red a chance to shove him away if he wasn’t interested…

It was obvious that Red was caught off guard at first, but when he returned Seonghwa’s kiss it was unexpectedly desperate. Red pushed up against him, a soft moan slipping up from the depths of his throat, his lips moved frantically against Seonghwa’s.

It took Seonghwa a moment to catch up. He pulled Red in closer, sucking on the plump swell of his bottom lip and earning himself a strangled whimper from the other man in the process. 

“My name’s Hongjoong…” Red turned his head and said into Seonghwa’s ear.

Hongjoong...a name after so long.

“Hello, Hongjoong.” He answered, and it was more of an awed whisper, really. “I’m Seonghwa.”

Hongjoong grinned up at him, his body swaying closer to his. “It’s nice to meet you, Seonghwa.”

They danced for a while, caught up in each other. A subtle rearranging in the style of music as the DJs changed shift brought Seonghwa back to himself. He pulled himself away from Hongjoong’s lips, glancing around to find both Giggles and Crop Top had disappeared. He brought his wrist up to check his watch and realized it was near midnight, still early in the night but a lot later than he thought it was.

Hongjoong grabbed his hand, checking the time, too. He burst out laughing.

“Wow, I didn’t even realize.”

Seonghwa had pulled his phone out, and chuckled at the stream of messages he found there.

From: Yunho-yah

Sent: 21:31, August 9

Hey we’re at the bar where’d you go?

Restroom?

From: Yunho-yah

Sent: 21:40, August 9

Hyung??

From: Yunho-yah

Sent: 21:45, August 9

Nvm, I see you.

Who is that?

From: Yunho-yah

Sent: 21:50, August 9

Whoa. You seem busy! Lol

From: Yunho-yah

Sent: 22:05, August 9

We’re going back out onto the floor to dance.

Come find us when you’re done.

From: Yunho-yah

Sent: 22:47, August 9

So… we’re taking off.

I take it you aren’t coming?

Have fun, hyung, be safe ;)

Seonghwa snorted, a quick look around and he was fairly certain that Yunho and Mingi had been true to their word and left without him.

“Your friends ditch you?” Hongjoong asked him, surfacing from his own phone. “Mine, too. I should probably...” He gestured towards the club’s entrance. “This was nice, dancing with you I mean.”

Seonghwa took in Hongjoong’s smiling face and the way he seemed reluctant to actually leave. He thought about all the time he’d spent thinking about Hongjoong. All the various fantasies he’d indulged in late at night; how sometimes when his thoughts got a little hazy right before sleep those thoughts drifted away from leather and glitter and sweat to what Hongjoong would look like in one of his hoodies, curled up on the corner of his couch. He’d caught himself wondering what the other man’s favorite foods were, what his regular coffee order was, whether or not he liked to read. Did he like movies? Would he ever want to see one with Seonghwa? He thought about how  _ lonely  _ he had been lately. How somehow he’d become so absolutely alone outside of his relationship with Yunho that there was no one to distract him and keep him from obsessing over Red- _ Hongjoong _ . In his most carefully laid plans he danced with Red and he gained a few coveted hours of his attention. Here with Hongjoong the idea of letting him go when he finally had managed to capture a bit of the man for himself was almost...painful. And Seonghwa didn’t want to be alone anymore. 

“I should probably go.” Hongjoong said again, taking a small step back. Seonghwa could let him go. He could come back next weekend and Hongjoong would probably still be there. He could dance with him again, buy him a drink, talk with him and learn something about him beyond how nice his ass looked encased in leather and how he liked to let his friends lead him around public places on a leash. That was probably the smart, responsible, grown-up,  _ sane _ this to do but-

“Yeah, if you want to.” Seonghwa caught Hongjoong’s hand and pulled him close again. Seonghwa dropped another kiss to his lips, which Hongjoong returned with all the same enthusiasm he had earlier. “Or you could maybe leave with me?..”

Almost as soon as he said it he considered the fact that he might have royally fucked up, but Hongjoong looked up at him, eyes shining and lips as red as his hair, one hand fisted in the collar of Seonghwa’s shirt and smiled at him, a bit dazed.

“Are you saying you wanna take me home?” Hongjoong asked, already lacing his fingers with Seonghwa’s, pulling Seonghwa towards the entrance of the club.

“Or you can take me home. I’m not picky.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s get out of here.”

  
  
  
  


After a quick stop at the coat check, the two of them stood outside on the curb in the late August heat. 

“Your place or mine?” Hongjoong asked, giggling again, and this time without a thousand other voices and music so loud he could feel it in his teeth, Seonghwa could actually hear it. Was it really possible for someone to be so damn attractive and to be cute on top of it all? 

“Yeah, I mean-I, uh, it’s whatever you want. I mean! We don’t even have to go somewhere we can… just go get some food?” Seonghwa said quickly. Hongjoong opened his mouth and then closed it again, a small frown beginning to form.

“Did you not want to..?”

“No!” Seonghwa gasped, “I-I mean, yes, I want to. Who  _ wouldn’t _ want to? I just… I didn’t want you to think, I mean if  _ you _ want to… I just didn’t want to assume.” He finished lamely. 

Hongjoong’s smile was back full force. “You’re not assuming anything.” He took Seonghwa’s hand and said, “Come on. I don’t live too far from here.”

He kept their fingers intertwined as he led Seonghwa down the busy street. It was warm and dark and the lights were bright and not a single soul was paying them any attention. It was wonderful. They crossed a few streets, made a few turns, and before he knew it Hongjoong was guiding him down a narrow alley, lit faintly by the late night lights of apartments far above. This part of the city was full of hostels and isolated little houses to rent tucked away behind the bigger, taller apartment buildings and storefronts; full of twists and turns. Hongjoong lead him deeper into the maze of alleys and side doors until they finally stepped through a narrow gap in high stone wall to a courtyard area. It was like a little peace suddenly opened up right in front of him. A few bushes, some flower beds, and a shade tree with a wooden bench and a little stone path weaving its way through it all.

A series of old row houses faced the courtyard in a neat little half square, six in total. It was quiet beyond the break in the wall, barely any sound from the busy street they’d left behind. The sweet babbling of water drew his attention to a neat little fountain in the far corner. Hongjoong lead him to one of the narrow house. 

“This is me.” Hongjoong said, digging into the shoulder bag he’d retrieved from the coat check to pull out his keys.

Inside, Seonghwa was greeted by a dimly lit living area. A neatly organized kitchen with a single fluorescent light shining over the sink, separated from the living room by a breakfast bar. The furniture was an eclectic mix-and-match of thrift store finds and IKEA constructs. The walls of the living room were covered in photographs and the kind of art that looked like the kind of things you’d buy on a street corner from a starving artist and million dollar gallery pieces all at once. The tall bookshelf was overflowing and someone had resorted to stacking them next to it in jenga towers of textbooks, fiction, and non-fiction alike. 

Hongjoong knelt down to unlace his boots, placing them on a rack by the door next to a few other pairs of shoes. Seonghwa followed suit, sliding on the guest slippers Hongjoong slid his way. 

“So…” He said when Hongjoong straightened back up. “This is where you live?”

“This is where I live.” With very little hesitation, Hongjoong stepped into his space. “Hi?”

“Hi.” Seonghwa returned, letting Hongjoong back him up until his back hit the wall. His hands came up to bury themselves in Seonghwa's hair. Seonghwa leaned down and pressed his lips to the corner of Hongjoong's mouth, then fully against it. Hongjoong's lips parted easily, eagerly. 

Fast, so fast, but Seonghwa wanted to be able to savor this. If it was the stupidest decision he’d ever made in his life, if this was a huge mistake and Hongjoong was going to look at him from across a crowded room next weekend and act like he’d never seen Seonghwa before, if somehow, some way, Seonghwa had taken his chance to get to know Hongjoong and thrown it away by being so impulsive, he wanted to have this night to look back on. He wanted to be able to savor it.

So he was going to take things nice and  _ slow _ . Seonghwa deepened the kiss, felt the way Hongjoong shivered as he tilted his head back to meet Seonghwa head on. Seonghwa’s hands settled on the swell of his ass, palms digging into denim and fishnet. Hongjoong sighed and relaxed in his arms, and  _ then _ Seonghwa pulled away. Hongjoong huffed out a whine, annoyed at the sudden loss of contact. Seonghwa forced himself to drag in a deep, steadying breath. Hongjoong gazed up at Seonghwa with glossy eyes, the glitter on his face and throat glimmering like stardust in the light from the filtering in from the kitchen. Seonghwa’s hands travelled up the lines of his body before cupping his shimmering visage, and then he kissed him more fully.

Hongjoong swayed into him, just like he had back at the club. His hands settled low on Seonghwa's back, only to glide back up to his shoulders. Graceful fingers traced the line of Seonghwa’s shoulder blades through the material of his shirt, and Seonghwa felt his blood might boil at his touch, as simple and innocent as it was. Seonghwa broke the kiss, one hand trailing down to settle around Hongjoong neck. He brushed the tips of his fingers against the leather of the choker, slipped one finger through the ring to tug at it carefully.

“Is this okay?” Seonghwa asked, even as Hongjoong’s hips rocked forward against his and a ragged gasp parted his lips. Hongjoong nodded, eyes squeezed shut. He shuddered, reaching down to take Seonghwa’s hand. He took a step backwards, drawing Seonghwa away from the wall and further into the house.

Hongjoong pulled him past a staircase and through a door, into what Seonghwa guessed was his bedroom. 

“Make yourself comfortable.” He murmured, moving over to his bedside table. He rummaged around in a drawer for a bit, placing a condom and a small bottle of lube on its surface. It was bold and so incredibly attractive.

Seonghwa sat down on the edge of the bed. He held out a hand to Hongjoong when he turned back to him. Hongjoong took it, stepping into the space between Seonghwa’s parted knees. His hands fell to Seonghwa’s shirt, working the buttons open slowly. When it parted, he shoved it from his shoulder. Seonghwa shivered at the influx of cool air. 

Hongjoong’s hands smoothed down his chest, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Why were you watching me?” He asked. “I know that you were, even before tonight.” Hongjoong dropped down to his knees, pressing open mouth kisses to Seonghwa chest, working his way down to his stomach.

Seonghwa stumbled over his words when Hongjoong began to loosen his belt, unbuttoning his slacks. 

“Your-you just have this- I couldn’t _ not _ watch you. From the first time I saw you, I never found the strength to look away.”

Hongjoong lowered Seonghwa’s zipper and slipped a slender hand inside, palming Seonghwa through his briefs. Seonghwa groaned softly at the sudden friction. 

“Oh yeah?” His smile was coy as he said, “If I didn’t already know that was true I might think that was a line, Seonghwa-ssi.” His hand worked its way beneath the last barrier of fabric and he wrapped his palm around Seonghwa’s cock, pumping his wrist leisurely. “I saw you, too, you know. Maybe not the first time you saw me, but I think soon after. You’re not very subtle.”

Hongjoong dipped his head down and dragged his plush bottom lip along the length of Seongwa’s cock from base to tip, he chuckled when Seonghwa gasped and his cock jerked in his hand. 

“It was unsettling at first, you watching me. You have such.. intense eyes. A very heavy gaze. I could feel it on me.” He swirled his tongue around the head before sucking it between his lips. Seonghwa’s hips bucked up, looking for more, and Hongjoong pulled back, smiling up at him like he wasn’t trying to carry on a conversation in the middle of giving Seonghwa head. “How old are you? I feel so awkward, calling you by your given name.”

Seonghwa laughed through the lust induced fog in his brain, “You feel awkward calling me by my name and you just had my cock in your mouth?” Hongjoong shrugged, the picture of boyish innocence with his tousled candied apple colored hair and sparkling warm brown eyes.

“I’m twenty-three. Born in ‘98.”

“Twenty-two, but I was also born in ‘98. Would you hate it if I called you ‘hyung’?” His smile had gone from boyish to impish and Seonghwa shook his head, bemused.

“If you want to?”

“Oh, I do. I probably would have done it anyway.”

“You know, I’ve been calling you Red in my head all this time, but Hongjoong suits you so much better.”

Hongjoong reached up to touch his hair, his cheeks flushing to match.

“I dunno.” He laughed, “I like Red. It makes me sound mysterious. Like a film noir character.” 

“You’re plenty mysterious on your own. Besides, I like knowing your real name.”

“That sounds an awful lot like flattery, hyung. I’m already on my knees.” Hongjoong replied with a cheeky wink. He closed his mouth over the head of Seonghwa’s cock once more and Seonghwa groaned, burying his hands in Hongjoong’s hair. Hongjoong took more and more of him into his mouth, his length disappearing down his throat at a slow, steady pace. He swallowed and a shudder rocked down Seonghwa’s spine. 

“Fuck..” He managed. Hongjoong moaned around his cock, tongue rolling in a way that felt absolutely sinful. 

With his free hand, Hongjoong shoved at Seonghwa’s slacks. Seonghwa took the hint and lifted his hips a bit to free the material. All the shifting around caused him to press farther into Hongjoong’s warm mouth and Hongjoong gagged a bit, humming around the increase in pressure. 

“Shit, sorry!” Seonghwa said sheepishly, running an apologetic hand through Hongjoong’s hair. Hongjoong merely rolled his eyes, choosing instead to drag his fingernails down the newly exposed flesh of Seonghwa’s thigh. A weak strangled sort of cry escaped Seonghwa and he fought the urge to buck back up into Hongjoong’s mouth. The fluttering of nerves in his stomach hadn’t transformed into more of a constant, low level buzz. It was hard for him to concentrate on anything but the slick pressure of Hongjoong’s mouth.

Hongjoong’s tongue worked along the underside of his cock, cheeks hollowed with his efforts, and he made such a pretty picture there on his knees, glitter and slightly smudged eyeliner and his gorgeous lips spread thin around Seonghwa’s girth. Finally, with another lewd swallow Seonghwa couldn’t take it anymore and he hauled Hongjoong up off of him by the grip he still had on his hair.

“ _ Hyung _ -” Hongjoong gasped, falling against his chest.

“I don’t think it’s very fair, do you?” Seonghwa gritted out. “Me being practically naked and you being fully dressed?”

Seonghwa rolled them over on the bed, kicked his slacks off the rest of the way before settling his weight over Hongjoong’s hips. He could feel the Hongjoong’s cock pressing against the back of his thigh, but he ignored it in favor of leaning down to capture Hongjoong’s lips.

He worked free the couple of buttons that had oh-so-valiantly been holding Hongjoong’s shirt closed, finally earning himself a close up view of the tattoos he’d admired from afar. “These are amazing…” He murmured, fingers tracing the swirls of dark ink as Hongjoong squirmed under his touch.

“Shit.” The younger man panted out, “That tickles, fuck.”

Seonghwa chuckled, leaving the tattoos behind in favor of trailing his fingers up, up, and holy shit. There were two neat little bars pierced through the stiff peaks of Hongjoong’s nipples. The silver glinted in the low light, glimmering against the brown of his nipples like frost. 

“Is it okay to touch these?” Seonghwa asked, and before Hongjoong had even finished nodding he was leaning down to capture one in his mouth. Hongjoong moaned beneath him, throwing his head back. The metal was warm against Seonghwa’s tongue, warm from Hongjoong’s skin and there was just the slightest tang of surgical steel. He flicked the tip of his tongue against the edge of the bar and Hongjoong jerked, hands flying up to bury themselves in Seonghwa’s hair. 

“Do it again.” He whimpered, voice sounding like it was five seconds away from breaking. Seonghwa flicked his tongue over the bar and as Hongjoong moaned and jerked, he sucked, pulling Hongjoong’s nipple into his mouth and releasing it with a wet  _ pop _ . He switched to the other side, giving it the same treatment until Hongjoong was panting beneath him, so full of tension he could hardly lie still. Seonghwa sat up to admire his work, the way Hongjoong’s nipple were puffy and glistened with saliva. Seonghwa’s eyes were yet again drawn back to the choker. He laid a palm over it, squeezing gently. 

“Let’s leave this on, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.” He didn’t miss the way Hongjoong’s eyes darkened at the question. A pleased thrill rolling down his spine.

Seonghwa loosened the buttons on Hongjoong’s shorts, sliding them down his thighs to reveal a black scrap of lace he could hardly qualify as underwear and a matching garter belt. The head of his cock was swollen and pink, and it peaked over the top of the lace, leaking precome onto the expanse of skin below his navel. The garter belt accentuated the lovely tuck of his narrow waist. Seonghwa slid his hand over the curve of his ass to grasp the back of Hongjoong’s thighs. He felt the cool bite of the rhinestones against his palms and he smirked, “Let’s leave these on, too.”

Once he’s gotten him down to the fishnets and the choker, Seonghwa reached for the lube on the bedside table. “Roll over for me, Hongjoong-ah.” He pitched his voice low, aiming for authoritative, trying to hide the nervousness that suddenly seized him.

Hongjoong nodded, rolling over onto his stomach when Seonghwa lifted his weight off of him. Seonghwa coaxed Hongjoong up onto his knees, elbows still firmly planted, head resting on his forearms. He ran a hand down Hongjoong’s back, following the elegant arch of his spine and admiring the way Hongjoong’s muscles shifted beneath his skin as he pressed his hips back in invitation. The light from the lamp post outside refracted off the jewels that trailed down the backs of Hongjoong’s thighs and down his calves. There was a tattoo there, as well. Something just above his ankle on the lower part of his calf that looked like a spread of wings. Seonghwa settled behind him, reaching forwards to caress the smooth globes of his ass.

“Hyung…” Hongjoong breathed, and Seonghwa was really starting to like the sound of that word on his lips. He teased Hongjoong’s rim a bit with the tip of his thumb, feeling the gentle flutter of the ring of muscle. There was an audible click when he flipped the lid of the bottle of lube open with his free hand.

As he slipped slick fingers inside, Seonghwa fixed his mouth on his hip, sucking a mark there just below the lace of the garter belt. Hongjoong whined as his fingers moved, curling and twisting. A rubbed the pads of his fingers over Hongjoong’s prostate gently, gauging the other man’s reaction to the stimulation. Hongjoong’s knees shook, threatening to send him pitching forward into his pillows. 

“Oh god. Again, hyung, please.” Hongjoong’s hand snaked shamelessly between his legs, wrapping around his own cock with a low moan. He squeezed, and Seonghwa took the opportunity to slide in a third finger. The groan of pure frustration he earned in the process was beautiful. Hongjoong didn’t bother with trying to muffle the sounds he made, more concerned with meeting each thrust of Seonghwa’s fingers, aiming to get them deeper inside of him, than with trying to be quiet.

When Hongjoong’s knees threatened to give out for a second time, Seonghwa slipped his fingers free, tore open the condom, and whispered a hurried, “Ready?”

The frantic nod he received in response was more than enough for him, so he rolled on the condom on, rubbing the head of his cock between Hongjoong’s cheeks before pushing in. He draped himself over the Hongjoong’s back, lips automatically seeking out a spot on his neck just below the choker. Seonghwa felt the scratch of the fishnets against his thighs, the lace of the garter belt against the palms of his hands as he held onto Hongjoong’s waist. Hongjoong felt like fire around his length as he sunk in slowly. He ran his hands up and down Hongjoong’s side, giving him a chance to let the burn die out, and then Hongjoong was pushing his hips back, shoving himself just that little bit more onto Seonghwa’s cock.

“Impatient..” Seonghwa chided, before setting a slow pace, enjoying the little noise Hongjoong made in the back of his throat as he panted and gasped. After a few moments he managed a good angle and Hongjoong’s gasps turned into deep throated moans. Hongjoong’s hands gripped at the bedsheets, a desperate bid for purchase against Seonghwa’s ruthlessly even thrusts. The head of his cock dragged over his prostate again and again, but the pace wasn’t enough for him.

“More.” He grunted, “Harder, hyung.”

“Fuck ..” Seonghwa swore, digging his fingers into the notches of his hips to pick up the pace. Hongjoong spread his knees that much wider to brace himself. The stays holding the fishnets up strained and one of them popped loose, his breath blowing out of him in little puffs now.

Seonghwa reached forward, tangled his fingers around the leather of the collar and tugged as he fucked in. Not enough to cut off Hongjoong’s air, but enough for him to feel it. The scrape, the burn, the pressure against his throat. The ragged gasp Seonghwa received in response was, fuck, Seonghwa never heard anyone make sounds like this before. The litany of noises pouring from the man beneath him resounded through his head in a way that had him fairly certain he never wanted to hear anyone else ever again. Another gasp and Hongjoong was begging him,

“Please, hyung. Please touch me.” Seonghwa was quick to oblige, reaching around him to wrap his hand around his cock, fisting it in time with his thrusts. Hongjoong rocked back against him, glancing over his shoulder to meet Seonghwa’s eyes. A flush spread across his skin and his eyelashes fluttered, his mouth open and wet and pink.

Seonghwa pulled him up to sit in his lap, fucked up into him just that much harder until Hongjoong cried out, coming over Seonghwa’s fist as his hip jerked into his hold. Seonghwa followed him soon after, grinding into him slowly as he planted soft kisses across his shoulder and up the sides of his neck. Seonghwa turned Hongjoong’s head, kissed him full on the mouth as he whined against Seonghwa’s lips, coming down from his high.

Seonghwa’s heart pounded away in his chest. He was light-headed and couldn’t seem to draw enough air into his lungs. In his arms, he could feel Hongjoong struggling to catch his breath, too, his heart beating just as fast.

With a contented hum, Hongjoong hooked an arm around his neck, dragging him down to lay beside him on the bed. Seonghwa cock slipped free and he grimaced. 

“Got a trashcan in here for this thing?”

Lazily, Hongjoong rolled over and stripped the condom off of Seonghwa himself, tying it off to toss it in a bin next to the bedside table. He returned, pressing his glittery forehead against Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I’ll call you a cab in a minute, okay?”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa nodded, he allowed himself the simple pleasure of wrapping his arms around Hongjoong’s waist, holding him tight. “Sure.”

  
  
  


“Hey. You. Get up.”

Seonghwa opened his eyes and was greeted with the whole unexpected sight of Crop Top in all his morning glory. The man stood before him, barefoot and bare chested, clad in nothing but a pair of dark skinny jeans and last night’s eyeliner.

Seonghwa realized then that he was still very, very naked.

“It’s already ten so if you have somewhere to be this afternoon you better get your ass out of bed.”

The man turned and left the room without a second glance. It was a good thing it was Saturday or Seonghwa would have already been over an hour late for work. He jumped out of Hongjoong’s bed and pulled on his wrinkled clothes from last night as quickly as he could. He glanced around the room, took in the playbills on the walls and the vanity with more makeup than his sister owned, the closet that overflowed with clothes in crazy patterns and styles, and the racks and racks of nailpolish hanging on the wall over his desk.

Where was Hongjoong…

Seonghwa stepped out into the living room and took a quick look around but Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen.

“Hongjoong’s gone.” A soft voice called from the kitchen. It was Giggles, seated at the breakfast bar reading a newspaper of all things, with his dark hair in an unruly halo around his head. Outside of the shitty club lighting Seonghwa could see the pinstripe blond highlights working their way through the gentle curl. “He had to work. He’s a teacher. He teaches second grade at a fancy arts focused private school that doesn’t care what he looks like, but on the weekends he tutors. So he’s usually out of here pretty early. But I’m going to guess he didn’t tell you any of that.” He examined Seonghwa quizzically over the Culture & Arts page. “You hungry? We’ve got plenty of rice.”

“Don’t feed it, babe.” Crop Top grunted, threading his fingers through the other man’s hair affectionately as he passed him by on his way out of the kitchen. “It might never leave.”

Seonghwa frowned and decided to stay for some food just to spite the other man and most decidedly  _ not _ because his stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself from the inside out.

Giggles spooned him up a bowl of whatever fried rice the couple had made for themselves, offering him the seat right next to his at the breakfast bar.

“I’m Wooyoung,” He pointed his chopsticks in the general direction of the sound of a hair dryer running further inside the row house. “You’ve already met my husband, San.”

Seonghwa choked on his rice, more or less at the fact that the two men had been married this entire time while Seonghwa had been trying to figure out what their relationship was with Hongjoong.

“I, uhm, saw you two together in the restroom once. At the club.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” The other man’s voice scoffed from down the hall.

Wooyoung grinned.

He took another mouthful of rice and peered down the hall, trying to catch another glimpse of the elusive, seemingly perpetually grumpy San.

“So.. a teacher, huh?”

Wooyoung laughed, “So I was right when I guessed you guys didn’t exactly get around to talking much last night?”

Seonghwa blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “No, not really.”

“That’s all right. Yeah, he’s a teacher. He loves kids. He teaches music, too, that’s what he tutors. Composition and piano. I’m a dancer, that’s how we met. We both used to tutor entertainment company trainees in college. I still do, but Hongjoong found his calling.”

The other man, San, walked down the hallway, more appropriately dressed in a tight black t-shirt to match his jeans. “Go get dressed, Wooyoung-ah. We’ve got an appointment at noon.”

Wooyoung nodded and hopped down from his stool. He placed a chaste kiss on the San’s lips which San promptly ruined with a squeeze to Wooyoung’s basketball shorts clad ass. Wooyoung shoved at his shoulder, ignoring the lecherous grin San shot him in favor of stepping over to the counter to retrieve a slip of paper.

“Hongjoong said to give you this. He said he wasn’t sure if you were interested in more than a one night stand, but if you were, you should text him some time. I know he’s free tonight...” Wooyoung smiled at him and Seonghwa took the paper, blushing yet again.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Hang every other right you come to out in the alleys and you’ll find yourself on the main road. The subway isn’t too hard to find from there.”

Seonghwa nodded, thanked him again, slipped on his shoes, and escaped the confines of the row house.

Wooyoung's direction proved to be correct. Seonghwa found the main road fairly easily. It wasn’t as confusing as Hongjoong had made it look in the dark.

He stood on the subway platform, running the slip of paper with Hongjoong’s number on it between his fingers over and over again.

He boarded the train, sat in a vacant seat, and took out his phone. Seonghwa programmed the number into his phone as ‘Red’ and sat there for a few moments, just looking at it, before he changed it to Hongjoong.

He opened up a new message and typed,

From: Park Seonghwa

Sent: 10:32, August 10

this is Seonghwa.

last night was amazing

and I was wondering

would you maybe want to…

have dinner with me tonight?

From: Hongjoong

Sent: 10:34, August 10

I would love that  **💕**

**Author's Note:**

> \---  
> Come see me!  
> twitter:[@VinnieKpop❤︎](https://twitter.com/vinniekpop). Follow Request are okay :)
> 
> CuriousCat:[@climbingvines❤︎](https://curiouscat.qa/climbingvines)


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